


i'd like to see the world burn [with you in my calloused hands]

by acethetixxx



Series: The Tommy Chronicles; DreamSMP [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, BAMF TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Betrayal, Blood, Blood and Injury, Crying, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Good Friend Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Manipulative Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), My First AO3 Post, Panic Attacks, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Past Abuse, Phoenix TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sad TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sick Character, Swearing, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Vomiting, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wingfic, no beta we die like men, you guys are so supportive what the hell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 00:42:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 18
Words: 16,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28734405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acethetixxx/pseuds/acethetixxx
Summary: The disc twirled beneath his fingers, he gave one last glance at Tubbo, and snapped the disc, shattering it's story and it's memories. The melody became broken against his ears, drowning out the gasps of the men and women alike who were scattered across the remains of the Community House."The very things that started my world are the same things that crushed it beneath my own feet."A fiery gaze of blue skimmed across Technoblade's eyes, in which he saw Tommy. He's changed for the best, or possibly the worst."I want to see the world burn, Techno."~~Or, Tommy goes back with Technoblade instead of betraying him. Chaos will probably ensue. So will angst.~~My first ever fic! Updates will be slow. Rated mature for graphic depictions of violence and others. Read the tags, please!
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: The Tommy Chronicles; DreamSMP [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2186331
Comments: 260
Kudos: 1330





	1. axe

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work and it's in progress! 
> 
> REMINDER! I do have school so updates will be very slow. This is also my first time writing a public story and feedback. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno and Tommy ready up, and Techno gives a few things special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter! Notify me of any spelling mistakes.

"You are worthy, Tommy."

Tommy's eyes shine as Technoblade slowly reveals his axe, the Axe of Peace, beneath his Antarctic cloth. Technoblade's leather hands are calloused (from years of battle, he notices, just like him) as he lifts it in Tommy's direction, fitting perfectly beneath the handle of it.

Names of enchantments are sharply carved into the solid dark oak handle. The netherite gleams with a purple sheen from months of hard work and enchantments and Tommy couldn't be happier.

_Am I really,_ Tommy asks himself _,_ but he takes it with joy nonetheless. It's heavy, and he almost drops it. The edge of the Axe of Peace is so sharp that it rivals Dream's wit, and that's exactly what he needs.

"Thank you! Thank you Technoblade- _The Blade!"_

He spoke in that raspy voice he does when he's determined to get a reaction, yet Technoblade gives him nothing but a huff past his tusks. It blows and whips against his hair, and he grumbles and gives Technoblade a look.

Technoblade then turns his head, towering above Tommy like usual. "You better not lose it like I know you will, Tommy."

He speaks funny. Technoblade has a funny voice, but Tommy likes that the boar towers over Dream. Something to make him feel vulnerable because he definitely deserves it.

" _W_ _hat!?_ " Tommy screeches, stomping in anger, and Technoblade isn't phased. "What do you mean, _l_ _ike I know you will!?_ You bastard."

Technoblade huffed again, this time away from Tommy's face, ignoring as the child rambled about how dumb Technoblade was for saying that and how many ladies he'd get after retrieving his discs.

He went silent after Technoblade flicked the clamp of a chest, snapping it open with a long, creaking sound that hurt his ears. He wasn't surprised when potions, golden apples, and battle-ready trinkets towered inside of the chest. If this wasn't Technoblade's house, it would probably be stored in an enderchest, but this is _The Blade_ we're talking about. Who knows of what godly items he _does_ have in his enderchest.

Technoblade pulls dozens of potions from the chest as the glass from each clank together. They were grouped within specific colors that Tommy vaguely remembered, and the liquid glowed and steamed when it was shaken. There were variants of red, pink, magenta, light blue, and even a white-ish color that stood out against the rest.

He could barely react when a belt was thrown in his direction, and Tommy yelped. A light-brown leather utility belt hangs from his hands, and there were potion clips sewed into the belt every few inches.

He raised a brow before wrapping it around his waist. It was way too large.

"Uh." Tommy twisted the belt around like a wheel, trying to find a way to shorten it. "How do I make it shorter?"

The boar proceeded to shrug, tapping his own belt. "You're asking the wrong type a' guy. Phil made em' for me."

Tommy frowned, imitating Technoblade's stupid huff, before he slipped it around his arm, settling it along his torso diagonally. He grinned his easy fix.

"You see, Techno? This is what being cool looks like." Tommy puffed out his concerningly thin chest, settling his hands on his sides. "You wish you looked as cool as me."

Pinching the bridge of his nose out of Tommy's sheer idiocy, Technoblade sighed. "Tommy, you literally have a dirty, ripped, red and white t-shirt under those netherite plates. You seriously need some new clothes- Ah, actually. . . Y'know, I guess I can."

The youngest blinked in confusion, fiddling with his red bandana as Technoblade stood, leaving the potions to bubble as he stomped to his enderchest.

Opening it, he reached into the swirls of the void, and slowly but surely, pulled out a coat. A familiar coat, in fact.

It was blue and white, the Antarctic Empire's relic and treasury. It was made of silk and had clips of gold chains and rings, and the symbol of the Empire was embroidered from wool into the back. White fur was lined at the neck, and Tommy stared in awe.

"This one is the same one that Phil and I have, Tommy. Do not lose _this_ , either. I'm putting as much trust in this as the t-shirt you wear constantly."

Technoblade turned, hooves clanking against the floor as he turned Tommy by his arms and slapping the silk onto his shoulders.

Tommy didn't question as Technoblade clipped the gold pieces together, and Tommy shivered as the fur lightly dusted against his cheeks like a feather tickling your nose.

Tommy's face turned beetroot-red, almost swinging the axe when Techno stumbled back to the potions. "What the fuck, Techno! I could have _easily_ put that on myself-"

"We're leaving soon, Tommy. Here, take the lids and attach them to the edge of the belt. Be careful with them, you small child."

"I'm a big man," Tommy muttered, the cape almost reaching past his waist because of how big it was. It was heavy, almost dragging him to the floor as he sat, setting the axe against the wooden floor and picking one of the potions. He graced the glass with his thumb, and the liquid inside rumbled. A clip sound echoed through the room as he clasped the invisibility potion into the belt by its lid. It hung across his chest, and many more soon to come.

It will be needed. Technoblade might not need it, but he does. He could easily die today. Tommy breathed as he clipped another potion. This one was fresh, red, and gurgling. It was a health splash.

"Take two of each," Techno mumbled, standing up. Tommy got a glimpse of his anthropomorphic legs before he turned and his cloak ran against the floor.

"You have 10 minutes. I'm going to ready up, I'll be waiting outside." Technoblade says deeply before he opens the door, ducking through and shutting it behind him.

He could die today, he realizes. He's on his last life, and it could be over.

He didn't think about that when he was building up to his last breath at Logstedshire.

Tommy hugged the silk cloak that Technoblade gave him, wrapping it out around himself for just a few seconds.

Those seconds then turned into a minute, and then minutes, before Technoblade knocked.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," Tommy says to himself, as he clips his last potions rushingly.

"I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be." He repeats one last time, opening the doors to the snow, to his L'manburg.


	2. nether

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy and Techno go to the nether. Techno may or may not be concerned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do compasses work in the Nether? Now they do, for plot juice. Edited multiple times for spelling mistakes.

Tommy felt way less cold with the coat he was given; the silk was thick and the fur was warm.

Both he and Technoblade spent no time leaving, not even giving a goodbye to Phil, who was cooped up in the top of the cabin, unable to sleep out of worry for both of his sons. Technoblade might never die, but he easily could. It's all he's thought about while trekking through the snow, honestly.

He could have died any time while he was in exile, but for some strange reason, he was oh-so-worried about his life _now._

_It was Dream's fault,_ He thought to himself. _But Dream is my friend._

"What was that?" Technoblade raised a brow, but not turning to him as he continued to walk through the thick snow. His hooves left strange prints and his royal cloak was long enough to catch flakes onto the bottom.

"Oh, did I say that out loud- No! I mean- I didn't say anything. Don't worry about it."

Technoblade shrugged, not seeming to care too much. "Whatever you say. Well, whatever you don't say, I guess," He snorts, proceeding to laugh at his own joke.

Tommy pursed his lips and kept walking alongside him. The silence was back and louder than before.

It would become night time soon, but Technoblade wasn't in a hurry. Of course he wasn't, because he's Technoblade. Tommy was the one who was afraid. Reminders of the zombies who held him to half a heart, skeletons that rattled and shot through his bones. And _god,_ the creepers were the most terrifying part. One step too close and you'd be gone for good. Well, in his predicament. All he had was a t-shirt. Now he's covered in netherite plates, stacked with potions, and decked with _the_ Axe of Peace. Now, nothing can stop him from becoming what the DreamSMP needs. Besides, well, Dream himself.

"You're thinking a little too much, Tommy, and you don't do that a lot. What's going on with you?" Technoblade brought him from his head for the second time. They were standing in front of a Nether portal. Oh.

"Techno, that's the Nether," Tommy spat, ignoring his question. "I can't go in the Nether."

Technoblade's beady eyes sharpened and gave him a confused look. "What do you mean you can't go into the Nether? Tommy, we're completely prepared-"

"No." His hands clenched against the silk cloak. "Dream banned me from the Nether."

"Well, I'm lifting the ban. Let's go."

"But Dream-"

"Tommy." His large hand summoned a sword beneath his fingers, and it gleamed with many enchantments.

"He's not even here. We're going to be late. Just come on." Technoblade stepped up to the obsidian and gave him a look. Before he could watch Tommy fiddle with the cloak anxiously, he disappeared, swirling away through the portal.

He stood there, holding his breath. Dream could easily find out, and Techno could just as easily tell him.

Tommy stepped up to the obsidian, staring into the swirls and breathing slowly as the portal made quiet warping sounds. He could do this.

Well. That's what he thought before a hand reached through the portal and grabbed the fur of his coat and _yanked_ him through.

He screamed, trying to push the hand off of him, and suddenly everything became hot and humid. He could barely breathe.

" _Dream, I'm sorry, I'll throw in my armour._ "

A voice (it was hoarse) yelled at him, bellowing between his ears. He felt the ground shift beneath him. He was falling.

" ** _Tommy!_ **"

The air was red when he opened his eyes.

That's not Dream.

Technoblade had a fist balled between the tufts of pelt sewed onto the silk, and his face was indescribable. He held his breath and wheezed when he realized he was on the floor. Tommy tilted his head to the side, staring into the depths of the Nether, where magma was boiling right below the side of the cliff.

Oh. Technoblade saved him from falling into a pit of lava.

" _It's never my time._ "

The child looked up, and Technoblade pulled him up to his feet. Tommy was shaking like a leaf.

"Tommy, really, what is going on with you? I tried to pull you through because you were taking _ages_ and then you almost jump into a pit of lava because you were screaming about armour." His netherite sword was held in his other hand; and with no Piglins or Ghasts in sight, it vanished from his hand and he steadied Tommy to the netherrack. "You're shaking like a Strider out of lava. Are you _scared?_ Do you want me to bring you back to the house with Phil?"

He scoffed, pushing his hands off his shoulders and bracing his side against the portal. "No. I'm coming with you-"

"Then what was _that?_ " The boar hybrid threw out his hands to the side, gesturing at the marks against the netherrack in which Tommy fell. Steam puffed from his nose as he breathed. "I already asked you this question twice. What's up with you?"

Crossing his arms, Tommy sneered. "I don't- I don't _know_ you dumb pig! This has been happening ever- ever since I left my other place. You wanna one-v-one? Let's go! Let's do this right now, bitch!"

The scatter of his inventory brushed against his fingers before his axe materialized, and he pointed it against Technoblade's (calloused) hand. The other's hand almost seemed to flinch back from its comforting state.

". . . Tommy, we are literally about step into _L'manburg._ We can spar later. Put the axe back in your inventory. You can just- You can tell me later if you really don't wanna right now, but we gotta talk about this someday. This is getting concerning."

Tommy stuck out his tongue, trying to avoid the serious talk. He didn't like those. The axe dissipated in his grasp, listening to his will.

"We have to go." Tommy stumbled as Technoblade grabbed a hold of his sleeve and pulled him toward the cobblestone path. "It won't take long, just keep your coat on."

"Hey! Don't just pull me like that, I will stab you, bitch."

"I'd like to see you try," _The Blade_ muttered, loud enough for Tommy to hear it. "Let's just go."

Technoblade let go of his arm, and the youngest staggered before following.

Making sure Technoblade wasn't looking, he quickly looped his hand under the belt and his hand brushed against something in his pocket.

_Your Tubbo,_ it read. Glancing at it as he took it out, it pointed in the direction of his best friend.

_Best friend my ass,_ he thought as he followed Technoblade across the path.


	3. festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno and Tommy jump through the portal. Tommy realises how much he's been forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this chapter is about 200 words shorter than my usual 1000 per chapter!

Technoblade's royal cloak whipped against the winds of the Nether, almost slapping against Tommy's face a few times.

Usually there was none at all, except for a few lucky days where the wind (hot and humid) created a deafening whistle across the expanse of hell. Maybe the Nether seemed to realise that impending doom is on its way.

Despite Technoblade requesting him to keep the silk on, it was starting to make him sweat prefusely. His face was hot and the shirt under his netherite chestplate was sticking to his back. The fur lined against the top burned against his cheeks. It wasn't the first time this has happend within the past few months, so he can deal.

His eyes kept wandering to the magma floor as well. Wouldn't be the first time for that either.

The purse of his lips distracted him from the click-clacks of Technoblade's hooves as they crossed the thin obsidian path lined with stones.

The silence was unbearable, but at the same time it felt welcome. It was a reminder of his quiet exile. Speaking felt like a rulebreaker.

The portal came into view from across the lava pit, and goosebumps spread across his skin.

Tommy's eyes narrowed, and his hand ghosted over a potion that was clipped to the belt. His attention turned to Technoblade, watching as his pig ear twitched.

"Not yet, let's get a little closer, atleast to the blackstone." Technoblade murmered, not even craning his head to look at him.

The child grumbled in confusion. "How do you even _do_ that? You didn't even look at me!"

Cracking his neck to the side, Technoblade hopped over the side of a pile of netherrack. "Years of training."

Tommy mumbled something about 'being cool' before jumping over the same pile that Technoblade did, this time with no clicking of hooves or waving of a cape.

"You're too loud, Blade," Tommy explains as they approach the blackstone path. "You just stomp your- your _hooves_ everywhere, and anyone could hear it."

"And you're too quiet. Luckily for you, that's a good thing in a world like this, you gremlin." The boar chuckles, deep and low. "You changed after being exiled, that was kinda your fault."

Tommy goes silent after that. They begin to approach the portal, and Tommy unhatches a splash invisibily potion.

"Go ahead Tommy, before someone comes through," Technoblade says, beckoning for him to throw the splash.

Tommy grins (It's shaky, Technoblade notices) and tosses the potion into the air. It crashes against the floor, the glass shatters against their feet and he can feel himself become lighter from his legs to his head. Tommy looks up, and Technoblade is invisible, except for the armour. Before he knows it, each netherite piece dissipates into the wind, signifying that it's been put into his inventory.

Tommy does the same, willing his armour into his inventory, before realizing it's just _not._

Delving deep into his head, he checks and sees that it's full. A half-stack of dirt, an apple, a few sticks, and two empty potion bottles are tossed into the lava before he thinks about it any more. His armour goes freely now, and he bets Technoblade is staring at him.

_You need to organize your inventory,_ the swirls of the invisibility potion whispers.

_TommyInnit doesn't organize his inventory,_ he whispers back.

The nether portal whoops and he jumps in. He feels Technoblade's cloak brush against his hand, wherever he was facing.

The warping of his vision made him shake at his knees. When he blinked to the sight of L'manburg, he almost fell weak.

He was on the verge of being starstruck, yet at the same time in a state of panic. Dream could push his sword through his heart at any instant, but he was _home._ Might as well enjoy it while he can.

_Follow the boots,_ Technoblade voiced, and netherite shackles appeared from thin air. They weren't even _boots._ Technoblade's hooves were just as good, so he forges them as close to his ankles as he can. The shackles rattle loudly as the invisible boar runs, and he follows.

How Technoblade kicked up dust when he ran, he had no idea. Probably from, _'quote on quote,_ years of training.

Decorations were lined against trees and houses, minigames and booths were scattered across the land, and a line of people were running across the grass happily, as if he never existed.

Unknown to the eye, his faced turned red in rage and he seethed with anger, before it twisted in to sadness.

He was betrayed and forgotten like a dog tossed to the side of the road, and some stranger picked him off the street, giving him comfort, and then tearing that comfort away with abuse and manipulation. Gentle one minute and brutal the next.

That stranger was Dream, and he'd soon conquer every dog known to man under his grasp, guiding them like puppets to their own demise.


	4. book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno and Tommy give Ranboo back his book, and Tommy hears something that he didn't want to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School is a bitch.

Tommy screamed as a hand touched his invisible shoulders. The hand in question tensed, and from on top of the house, he could see Fundy's ears twitch in the distance. He and a few others,  _ including Tubbo,  _ were playing a game of some weird ice golf with balls of different colors.

_ You idiot child,  _ Technoblade huffed.  _ Someone- _

_ I thought you were Dream,  _ The child whispered back.

_ He's not here, don't worry. _

Scoffing at Technoblade's  _ reassuring  _ words, he ignored him as he watched the group followed Tubbo to their next game, probably.

Except for one person.

_ Ranboo,  _ he whispered, knowing Technoblade heard him but didn't care. He hopped off the roof, denying how his legs rang with pain, and coursed through his toes. He probably should have rolled off like Technoblade did. He pulled up his DCD, making sure no one was near the house and checking that he was still invisible by waving his hand in front of his face. His fingers typed quickly against the digital-hologram keys.

** DigitalChattingDevice **

_ Private Chatting:  _ Ranboo

TommyInnit: Ranboo

TommyInnit: Ranbo i Need you to come to your hosue

TommyInnit: NOW

TommyInnit: NOW

TommyInnit: NOW

_______________

Not wasting his time waiting for an answer, he began to run, willing his boots to his feet. His invisibility wouldn't run out any time soon.

_ Tommy,  _ said Technoblade, but the exile paid no attention. Technoblade had to follow him at this point, in case he did something stupid.

He rushed past what looked like Sapnap, who didn't notice the boots.

_ Like the idiot he is,  _ Tommy's mind supplied. Running up the stairs, he could hear Technoblade's hooves pound on the wood, making the floorboards creak.

Swinging the door open, Ranboo was inside, looking through his chests in panic. The half-faced hybrid turned fast enough to give him whiplash.

"Tommy, is that you? Do you have my- my book? Where's my book?"

Stuttering looked strange on the lanky kid. Maybe even taller than The Blade himself.

_ Here, Ranboo. I don't want to kill you, you're good. _

A book was thrown from thin air, and Ranboo caught it, fumbling with it before it lied still between his sharp nails.

"Is that Techno with you? Tommy and Techno, is that you?"

_ Yes,  _ the pig answered for him.  _ I came to follow Tommy because he was being an idiot, like usual. At least I got to give you back your book. _

_ Hey!  _ The idiot screeched angrily. Ranboo chuckled at their shenanigans.

"I won't tell, especially on you, Tommy. I'm glad you got out of there. I thought you were dead once you stopped replying to my books! I was worried."

Tommy could feel a gaze burning into his back. He'd glare at Ranboo right now, if he could.

_ Uh, yeah. Thanks for being there for me- _

_ Sorry Ranboo, but our invisibility is going to run out if you guys keep on with your wholesome-talk. _

Tommy blushed at Technoblade's words, but he had a point. Ranboo was scribbling in his book- Whatever that was, anyways.

The door latched open behind him, and Tommy took the rattling of the doorknob as a 'come on.'

_ Techno, wait!  _ He spat as the floorboards creaked with the indents of Technoblade's hooves.

_ Tommy, we need to go quickly. We have enough info- _

Tommy scoffed, tired of his bullshit.  _ For fucks sake, let's explore a little, no? See what they're up to! _

_ You- _

Technoblade didn't finish his sentence as he felt quiet feet pattering away from the wooden boards.

_ Tommy!  _ The child didn't care as the Blade whisper-yelled for him. He sighed, palming his face for the second time.

In the meantime, Tommy was running around. He wasn't sure where everyone was, but he's sure he was running along the Prime Path.

He looks around, passes the bee farm, running further along the Path. He wasn't sure how long this potion would last, but he didn't care. He walked around the corner and ran up the stairs as quickly as he could, passing his old home and jumping down the side of the mountain with a water bucket which was faster than running down the stairs.

He looked around, taking in his L'manburg. Wishing he had enough potions to stay here forever, listening to his discs peacefully as he sat on the bench watching the sun rise.

_ That can't happen,  _ he told himself.  _ Tubbo betrayed me and I'll never get back my discs. _

_ No! I will get them back, no matter how much it takes. _

_ They're worthless,  _ his mind snarled back.  _ Give them up and you'll be free. _

Tommy scorned, sprinting along the Path. He noticed that a half-built obsidian wall was towering to the side. It was sharp and cunning, unlike usual where obsidian would become dull after days of weathering. Weren't those supposed to be destroyed, anyway?

He waved his fingers in front of his face. It warped strangely and flickered, but when it laid still, he became invisible again. The potion was beginning to run out.

_ Techno's probably home by now- _

"Give me the disc, Tubbo!"

Tommy inhaled sharply through his grinding teeth, his ears filling with white noise and his hands shaking, white and clutching his newfound Axe of Peace.

He slowly turns his head to the yell in the distance and he  _ knows  _ who that is; especially when he sees the Community House in  _ shambles _ , billowing with smoke and people screaming.


	5. tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo and Tommy meet, and then they fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of blood and descriptions of wounds in this one, you have been warned! Once again, please inform me of any spelling mistakes.

**_"No!"_ **

Before he could think, a scream ripped, clawing itself from his hoarse throat. The scream cracked and hissed with parch, images wobbling and moving and twisting in his eyes and his ears rung with constant static and he'd felt like he'd vomit, before it just, _vanished._

And now he was here, in the smoke and in the damage with no recollection. He breathed in the smog but he didn't feel a thing. His axe, _Techno's axe,_ was trembling in his grasp and there were people gathered on the remains of the Community House, eyes watching him and keeping him close like a crushing, fake hug meant to manipulate you.

Oh, his potion wore off. What a shit timing.

His shoulders are heavy with armour and Technoblade's arctic cape, snarling and baring his teeth before Tubbo had the chance to speak.

"I trusted you, Tubbo! I trusted you with that _godforsaken_ disc-"

"Tommy, you did-"

He seethed, stepping forward and throwing his hands out to the sky in rage. Tubbo looked angry, but he had no reason to care anymore. Just as he started to open his mouth and talk _shit_ again, Tommy poked his finger against Tubbo's chest, silencing him when he saw the angry fire racing in his dull eyes that Tubbo brewed.

"Shut the _fuck up_ and let me speak for once in my goddamn life!"

He took another step and Tubbo backed up with him, and more ongoing lookers appeared at the ruins of the Community House, some watching in fear, confusion, or even interest.

"I trusted you! You never trusted me, did you, Tubbo? We grew up together and laughed together and cried together and- protected those discs with our _lives!_ Now look what you've done! Those discs were all you had after exiling me, you fucking bitch, and you were going to give them to Dream?! _That's all he fucking wanted, Tubbo! That's all- thats all he_ wanted."

Tears were beginning to stream down his face and his vision was getting blurry and his face red. He chuckled, sad and bubbling from crying. He didn't care to wipe them, they'd just come right back.

"You saw that tower, didn't you? You didn't care. You never did. You used me. If you cared we could have been happy, Tubbo. Maybe Dream was right. Maybe no one cares anymore. I'm just an annoying, loud brat who causes conflict. I could've changed if you had just-"

Tommy sucked in a breath through his teeth, trembling and staring at the disc in Tubbos hand.

"Maybe I should have listened to the voices in my head," Tommy looked back at Dream, twisting his body tiredly and watching the sunset glinting off of his mask, and back to Tubbo, who was backed up from his last step. "Maybe If I give them up, I'll be free."

His DCD buzzed with a new message, but he paid no mind. Tommy extended his hand, shaking and red from grasping the axe, which he'd given in his other hand.

"Give me the disc."

"What?"

Tubbo looked like a mix between confused, angry and betrayed. He held the disc to his chest, breathing harshly. Tommy knew he was about to say something stupid, with that stupid look in his eyes and that stupid face.

"No."

Tommy pursed his lips, and every noise and every taste was suddenly coming back to him. He ripped one of the potions from it's clasp, slicing the glass at the top like you'd do if you were opening a wine bottle on a Friday night. He downed it, gulping it fully, throwing the bottle to the water before he clenched his hands with a newfound strength.

"Give me the disc, Tubbo. I'm not going to ask again,"

He passed the axe back to his main hand, and a half-beaten shield called to his left arm.

"Or I'll have to fight you for it."

A shield appeared in Tubbo's hand as well, with a sword in the other.

Tommy's eye twitched, and he didn't hesitate. He swung his axe to the side of Tubbo's shield and ducked when Tubbo sliced his sword at him, nicking at his cheek. His adrenaline was too much to feel it anyways, so he flung his hip up and kicked Tubbo's shield, denting it with his foot and rolling to the side.

They both stood breathing heavily, before Tubbo charged and shouted.

"We don't need to be doing this, Tommy!"

"Yes we fucking do!" Another swing of his axe, using the hilt to slam against Tubbo's arm. The latter cried out, backing up. "You never felt what I did, Tubbo! Always so happy-go-lucky, and then suddenly a switch around, fucking exiling me!"

"It was for our _country!_ "

Another swing of a sword at his hip, slicing at the cloth, but his arm was weak from getting beat with the hilt of his axe. He took the chance to slash the axe against the chest of Tubbo's suit, and he heard Tubbo gasp at the sight of blood.

"What good is a country if you're leading it?! We're _children,_ Toby! We shouldn't be leading fucking countries and fighting wars!"

"You know we're past that point, Tommy. We fought, we fight, and we keep fighting!"

Tubbo thrusts his sword against his shield, making a hole against the rotten wood before Tommy yanks the shield backwards, stumbling.

"If we're past that point, then I could've helped you if you didn't betray me, you asshole! We could have led together!"

Tubbo's eye twitched (he noticed) and his blade ripped through Techno's cape, gold flakes shattering and whisking through the wind like a raging flame. The sword embedded into his arm, but he didn't shriek, nor did he cry.

" _Betrayed_ you? Are you serious, Tommy!?"

Tommy used the hilt of his axe to smash against the sword, and it dragged out blood from his arm, splattering against the cape and the floor. He didn't care.

"You know, It's good I exiled you, anyways! Everyone is happier without you here!"

Tommys ears fill with static, and he stops.

Tubbo's sword clatters against the ground, breath cold and hard as he slaps his hand against his mouth in anguish.

"I didn't-" Tubbo whispers, hands shaking and feet trembling from the tired cries if a short battle.

"I didn't mean th-"

Tommy felt something flare up in his veins like a flame, flowing through his body, coursing through his heart. He screamed bloody mary, and raised his axe.

Tubbo screamed, Tommy screamed, both screaming for their lives as children. They didn't want to die.

(Well, one of them didn't.)

Tubbo raised his shield, and Tommy's axe amashed right through, the flames from his heart and veins powering through the hesitant stiffness of the air and against Tubbos chest, drawing blood. Tubbo didn't scream, but streaks of red ran from his mouth. Tommy yanked his axe from Tubbo's wound in which he choked, and pointed it against Tubbo's neck, gracing his bloodied victory.

"Give me the disc, Tubbo."

The child in question, breathed heavily, shaking against the blade of the axe. He wasn't dying, but his teeth were red and so was his suit. Tommy's blood stood out more against his light blue garnet.

The disc was thrown from Tubbo's previously shielded hand, and Tommy caught it, red fingers staining the sheen on it.

He looked up, forgetting about the crowd of L'manburgians. People he remembered were scattered across the top with ghostly pale faces.

He grinned, but it wobbled and he frowned again. His teeth were red too.

Then he felt a streak of wind pass his face, and a smile plagued his mind, mask of blood and tears and green and abuse and-

Dream.

Yeah, he forgot about Dream.

He gasped, eyes wide and now dying, backing into nothing and into everything.

He backed into _something,_ and he panicked, shrieked for help, scared and lonely, I need _help- help me-_

"Sorry Dream,"

Suddenly he could breath. Tommy could breath yet not, choking on the blood that filled his lungs, and he felt his arms shake against velvet robes and gleaming wool, backing against large hooves that quaked the ground against his boots.

A large hand pressed against his chest, pulling him backward, farther into the robes. He felt a hot huff pass his hair.

"But this guys' with _me."_


	6. home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He runs, going insane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early chapter for being so supportive! 
> 
> for real though what the fuck guys

_"Techno?"_

Tommy whispered, low and shaky and drowned out by the wind. A long, sharp cutlass pointed towards Dream from above his head, a sheen of magic swiping across its frame, forged with delicacy.

His blurry vision was starting to fade, and so was the roaring in his ears. He could smell a mix of many potions on the cloth of Technoblade's robe.

"You know, _Blade._ "

Dream hissed like the snake he was, clipping his mask to the side to reveal one red swirling eye that bore into Tommy's mind. Dream's pupil spun slowly like a hypnotizing party trick you'd see a magician pull off, but Tommy didn't think in was very party-like. In fact, he was trembling at his knees.

"You still owe me a favour _oh-so-due._ " He slowly lifted his mask back to his terrifying face, lowering his hand as if he was trying to accept something.

"Return Tommy to me and give me the disc-"

"W-wait."

Tommy spoke, stuttering over his words, gesturing to the disc in his hands. Dream perked up, relaxing at his sides.

"Now now, Tommy. You're my _friend._ These friends and family of yours, they don't know you. They don't _care_ for you. Come back to me and give me that disc."

A quiet gust of wind blew against Technoblade's robes before Tommy stepped forward, shaking. Technoblade put a hand against his shoulder before he shook it off.

"Dream, I don't need this."

A quiet _what?_ from Dream graced a smirk upon his face.

"These discs are nothing to me, anymore!"

Tommy swiveled, twisting his body in a way that burned his wounds, but he paid nothing.

"You taught me this, Techno- Technoblade. I've been so dumb! I don't need these things if Tubbo doesn't need _me."_

Tubbo was silent.

Tommy stepped forward again, and Dream willed an axe to his hand.

"These things started a nation, _my_ L'manburg- don't you see?"

Tommy turned, feet shuffling between the people of L'manburg, the people who exiled the wrong end of the conflict. The disc twirled beneath his fingers, he gave one last glance at Tubbo, and snapped the disc, shattering it's story and it's memories. The melody became broken against his ears, drowning out the gasps of the men and women alike who were scattered across the remains of the Community House.

"L'manburg is gone. _I_ don't have a 'L'manburg' anymore, nor do I have a use for these _discs! All they've caused is pain!"_

Tommy snarled, his skin began to feel hot, and his fingers twitched against the broken disc, which was snapped cleanly in half.

"The very things that started my world are the same things that crushed it beneath my own feet."

A fiery gaze of blue skimmed across Technoblade's eyes, in which he saw Tommy. He's changed for the best, or possibly the worst.

**"I want to see the world _burn,_ Techno!"**

Tommy chuckled, lowering his head with jumping shoulders. Submissing to the guillotine.

_"I want it fucking gone."_

Technoblade blinked surprisingly, looking around the dozens of people along the Community house.

Technoblade turned back to Tommy, who was staring at the floor. Forgotten.

The boar cleared his throat as those same dozens of people began to pull our their crossbows, or axes, or swords. Even Tubbo, who was slowly leaning towards the ground to pick up his sword, wincing after being covered with wounds. Dream was literally standing right there.

"Tommy, I'm glad that you're admitting to the confines of anarchy, but right now we are surrounded by crowd full of L'manburgians who know us for our faces on _wanted posters._ "

Tommy looked up, the falling flames in his dull eyes roaring with a look that seemed to go _'oh shit.'_

Tommy looked around, and, oh fuck, they were about to leap down and jump them. With axes and swords.

Tommy sneered, tossing the broken disc into the water, not sparing a glance to watch it sink. Instead, the shattering of glass was heard as he threw his last invisibility potion to the floor, willing his armour to his inventory.

Now everyone was invisible, and a few _'what?'_ or ' _where did they go?'_ and a ' _who is this?'_ mumbled through the crowd and he could hear Dream yell for him as he bolted to the path.

No matter how much out of breath he was, with wet streaks running down his face, he ran an ran as fast as he could, jumping through the portal and not giving a damn about how his face felt hot.

He heard the portal swirl behind him, and kept running.

_Tommy!_ Technoblade yelled, and it passed from one ear and out the other. _Tommy, slow down, you're going to trip and fall._

Tommy felt Technoblade's hooves stomping against the path, making his boots bounce against the stone and obsidian.

He was sure Technoblade was yelling something else, the the roar of a ghast rang through the stiff air. He ignored it. Keep running.

Technoblade swung his axe to the fireball, shooting it back and watching in the distance as it let out a strangled cry following an explosion.

In the meantime, Tommy jumped over the same netherrack pile they'd went through on their way to L'manburg.

_Fuck it all!_ Tommy screeched at the top of his lungs as he rolled after hopping over it, standing next to the portal back to Technoblade's home and staring at the expanse of magma.

_Fuck this, fuck, fuck. . . Why. . ._

He collapsed to his knees, his hands balled and shaking with too many emotions at once. He sat, leaning on the obsidian.

He didn't know.

He didn't know how long he'd sat there until Technoblade rested a hand on his head. He didn't remember how he held the compass in his shaking hand. He didn't know how long he'd been staring at it. He didn't know how many tears had evaporated.

_Not anymore,_ he thought as he tossed _Your Tubbo_ into the pit of lava.

Both of them watched as it fell. Technoblade didn't know what that was.

"Technoblade," Hoarse from crying. "Am I going insane?"

A huff.

"Aren't we all?" Technoblade asked, staring into the magma, and Tommy felt a hand lift off of his head before patting it.

Tommy's face did _not_ go red. No it did not.

~~

Somewhere in the pocket of a dusty and bloody suit, _Your Tommy_ shattered.


	7. feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy struggles ft. Philza in pajamas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Philza Minecraft jammies.

He grasped his sleeves, his fingers trembling and his vision blurry from needing to cry.

He and Technoblade had just exited the Nether, with Technoblade even half-attempting to help him up from his knees (which he didn't acknowledge). The swirling of the portal made him sick, quite literally. He threw his head to the side seconds after entering through the portal and promptly tossed his cookies into the snow.

Techno, with his nose scrunching at the putrid stench of the vomit, pat his back quickly before pulling Tommy's coat so he could follow him; he didn't care to look up, so his eyes were stuck to the snow.

His wounds were stinging with pain in the cold wind, the adrenaline fading from their previous fight and the pain getting worse with each step. The biggest wound was a large slash against his arm where Tubbo's sword had cut through. It dissassembled a large seam in the cloak as well, and it's edges were stained with a deep red spot that was getting larger by the second. Scrapes and cuts littered his clothes, and a larger cut on his face was dripping blood that Tommy didn't care to wipe off.

He stumbled, almost tripping as his fingers were still clutching the sleeves that were sticking to his arms from a sheen of sweat.

His lids got more heavy, threatening to close and let him sleep as he trailed behind and realised that there was a steep hill he had to climb.

The boar had it easy. Long, anthropomorphic legs, lean from years of training and topped off with strong-as-fuck hooves. He could easily climb it. He wasn't injured either, so Tommy was practically the opposite.

His legs, which used to be active and thriving with energy from multiple wars and jumping and running, were now weak. Weak from days of being bedridden in exile, weak from not eating or drinking just like the rest of his body unless his adrenaline takes over. He can't parkour anymore like he used to do for fun; Any parkour he did now was to _escape._ Walking even the shallowest of hills was going to be a challenge with how he was now, after fighting.

He doesn't tell Technoblade when he turns around to ask him what's taking so long.

"Just thinking," he replies, powering through the multiple weaknesses he was currently facing and climbing up the hill.

Tommy looked up, and it was almost sunset. He could see the smoke from Technoblade's chimney in the distance from the hill.

Speaking of the hill, climbing a fucking hill should not be this hard.

He's almost at the top, he can see the curve of the mountain getting flatter as he walks up. Technoblade is watching him, he notices. He's so close but looks so far.

His legs wobble, and his eyelids droop. Once Tommy wavers side-to-side and his hands are weak while holding the fabric of his sleeves, Technoblade knows what's about to happen.

"Don't do it," Technoblade says, honest to god jokingly. He knew Tommy was weak, so obviously he'd have to help him, but he didn't expect for Tommy to _listen to the joke._

_"Sorry,_ sorry. I'm good."

Tommy called out weakly, shaking his head to rid of his tired eyes. He hissed at a draft that almost blew him off his feet. His legs still shook, stumbling when he took a step.

"Wait, wait, no. That was a joke, Tommy," Technoblade stated, and Tommy mumbled another careless _sorry._ Techno leaped down, steadying Tommy and sighing when the sun began to set.

Hefting Tommy's arm onto his shoulder and carrying his side proved to be a difficult task with the major height difference. Even with Tommy being the giant skyscraper that he was for his age, along with his posture plus Techno's even bigger height difference, it hurt more than it helped. He could also just _carry_ him, but- No. Just. . . no. It felt so wrong to _carry_ TommyInnit.

"What're ya doin, bitch?" Tommy slurred as Techno stayed silent, helping him up and over the hill, easily faster than half the time it took Tommy to get where he was.

Tommy didn't seem to care either as Technoblade helped him the rest of the time as well. The rattle of a skeleton hurried his pace just the slightest.

Finally, at the brink of the night, they reached the bottom stairs of Techno's cozy home. The hardest part would be getting _up_ the stairs; for any normal human, anyways. Tommy was getting dragged by his feet at this point, in a plane of being conscious and, well. _Not._

Technoblade has carried things heavier than any human before, and Tommy's weight should'nt even be considered human weight. He felt like he was carrying a few bundles of wool, with how much he hadn't eaten.

Tommy's torn shoes knocked against each stair as Technoblade went up each one. Well, he skipped a step or two of course.

Now he just needed to pray that Phil was awake. Unlike Technoblade, Phil actually went to sleep at reasonable times.

Knocking a rhythmatic pattern on the door so they know it isn't some random guy, he gave a simple monotone; " _Philzaaaaa,_ unlock the door, I have a child."

"Hey." Tommy mumbled, his head lolling to the side of Technoblade's shoulder.

"You _what?!"_ rang through the door, and a few clicking sounds were heard before the knob twisted and the door swung open.

There stood Philza, draped in _pajamas,_ sewed by his own wise hands. It was light green and a pattern made of hearts with black spires were embroidered along the shirt. His dark wings were draped tiredly against his shoulders, each side filled with singed feathers incapable of flight.

He blinked, rubbing his eyes to double-check that he wasn't already asleep or hallucinating, and stared at the tired and torn-up Tommy who was hanging on his shoulders.

"Techno, _what?_ "

Tommy flipped him off with a shaking hand.

"M' not a child, fuck off."


	8. rest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy's wounds were worse than he'd thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter to equal out to 8,000 words!
> 
> edit: im 4 words off FUCKKKKKK
> 
> edit edit: i fixed it

Philza, ignoring Tommy's weak middle finger, opened the door quickly and helped Tommy inside by hefting his other arm onto his shoulder. A little weird position, considering Phil was shorter than both of them, despite being pretty tall himself.

"You guys just _had_ to be lucky, didn't you? You guys are so tall," Philza quoted. Tommy didn't respond except for a shriek in pain as Philza lifted his injured shoulder. Philza whispered an apology, and the shaking of Tommy's fingers tapped against Phil's wings. His skin was unbelievably cold and his sleeves were ripped.

"Jesus."

Technoblade snorted and they both helped Tommy sit down on the floor. He was gasping in pain now, but they need'nt panic.

"God, Tommy. Who did you fight?" Phiza questioned as he opened the clasp of a chest, rummaging through it to look for wraps and medical tape.

Philza didn't notice as Tommy winced, but his eyes seemed to dim at the lack of response. He didn't ask again.

Technoblade began to store his armour away instead of keeping it in his inventory. "After we wrap his wounds, we need to bring him to, uh. . . one of _our_ beds. He can't just lay on the floor to rest-"

"M'fine,'" Tommy whispered, his voice laced with pain.

"No, you're going to rest whether you like it or not," Philza got the items that he needed and crossed his arms sternly.

"No, I meant," He gulped, the blood from the cut across his face smeared along his cheek. "I can. . . I can sleep n' the floor."

"Hell no."

"Nope."

Philza and Technoblade spoke at the same time as Philza sat beside Tommy, unclasping his last heath potion on the child's potion strap. He almost chuckled because he realized that the 'belt' was too big for him, leaving him to wrap it around his torso diagonally.

"You're here now, Tommy. I don't know what happened with you in exile, but we're not going to continue to treat you like shit just because your eyes have gone all dull and you have no meat on those bones."

Tommy didn't respond, and Technoblade looked hesitant.

The glass bottle was smeared with drops of blood when he took it, but the liquid inside was fine. He rolled out the gauze and poured some of the pink liquid over it.

"Where's the biggest wound?"

"On his shoulder. The right one; or left, from your perspective," Technoblade answered for him.

Philza nodded. He'd have to take the cloak off.

Unclipping the gold chains from each side. He looked up at Tommy, and his head was tilted to the side. His breath was laboured and his eyes were closed. Must be resting.

"Techno, can you go grab another healing potion from the basement?" He unclipped the last gold button, speaking quietly to not wake Tommy. "Not sure if this one bottle will be enough."

The boar gave him a muted nod, taking off his royal cloak and turning the corner of the hallway. Philza could hear the clicks of his hooves powering down the ladder.

He peels off the lined fur from Tommy's sweaty neck, and he scrunched his nose at the sound.

He pulled it over his head and- oh my _god._

Phiza sucked in a breath.

His shoulder, the worst wound, had stained the whole of his shirt, which was sliced half-way with a deep red. The wound in question was huge, cut straight through almost _half of his fucking arm._ It didn't look that bad when the coat was on. Philza clutched the gauze.

The wounds were worse than expected.


	9. scratch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy hurts.
> 
> tw, cw //
> 
> descriptions of wounds and bruises in this chapter! please proceed with caution!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phil lifts Tommy's shirt in the beginning to check his wounds. If you see this as sexual, I will rid you of all three of your canon lives and then punt your ghost-ass into orbit.

Philza lifts his shirt just a small bit to see a few scrapes made long ago but not treated to, leaving his skin red and irritated. A few bruises were littered against his arms and his hands were _calloused_ and stained with grime. The blood from his shoulder makes half of the shirt stick to his skin, and Philza almost gags.

"God, Tommy, what happened to you?"

Philza's fingers were now bloody when he tore Tommy's sleeve where the large wound was.

He could hear Technoblade's hooves rattling the ladder as he readied the gauze wrap.

"This is gonna hurt," he murmurs, and uses a towl to wipe the excess blood from Tommy's skin. The sleeping child on the floor sucks in a breath while he slumbers.

Technoblade appeared from the hallway as well, back with a fresh and bubbling healing potion.

The blood flaked a little from the cold outside, but it took a short amount of time to clean the main wound.

Phil didn't turn when Technoblade had set the bottle beside Phil's sitting position. When he saw his hand freeze in surprise from the corner of his eye, Philza knew that he'd saw the wound.

"Yeah." Philza rolled back the sleeves of his pajamas to his elbows. The other potion had settled into the wrap. "It's worse than I thought. He has bruises and cuts everywhere too, old and untreated."

"It didn't look _that_ bad," Technoblade sighed, sitting on a thick chair a little bit away from the two. "He wasn't crying out in pain or anything. I mean, he was crying in the Nether, but y'know. . ." He shrugged. "Uh, mental pain? I knew he was weak but the cut didn't look that big under the cloth."

"Yeah, I can see." He whispered, gesturing to the tear tracks on Tommy's dull face, which had previously evaporated in the Nether.

Philza stared at the gauze in guilt, knowing this will probably hurt more than cleaning off the blood.

He held in a breath, quickly lifting Tommy's almost half-arm and Tommy's eyes squeezed shut.

He used his other hand to wrap the potion-dried sheet around the wound. It sizzled on impact, and Tommy's eyes snapped open and something akin to a whimper left his throat.

"Just a little more," he whispered, and he felt Tommy's other hand clench against his pajama pants.

The child mumbled something incoherent before Philza wrapped the rest around. He muttered a 'sorry' before grabbing the tie-around and _yanking_ it to tighten the gauze.

A pained howl coursed through the house and Tommy tried to scramble against the wall that was already there. With Techno watching in the back, Phil steadied his arm and could only watch as Tommy cried out.

"Please make it stop," His voice cracked, weak and small, and Philza visually winced.

"Huurtss." Tommy whimpers like a dog, sucking in a breath and letting out a wheeze, using his other hand to try and pull the gauze. "- It hurts _so fckin' bad-"_

_"Tommy,_ stop- you're going to rip it off!" Philza pryed Tommy's other hand away, and steadied his hand between his own. He looked at his eyes, weak and dull, filled with fear. Not the kind of fear that roared like a flame in battle knowing you'd die, or the kind of fear you'd see when you'd from a jumpscare and laugh about later. It was somehow different; the fear in his eyes were trembling like a weak protesting wave of water.

Technoblade had stepped out of his chair at this point when Phil gave him a pleading look while Tommy struggled between his arms.

The boar leaned down, the missing royal cloak weirdly giving a sense of home. He sat beside Philza.

"Stay still, you're going to hurt yourself even more than it does now," he said, trying to have atleast a little calmness in his voice, but it came out as monotone as ever. He snorted, and Tommy shut his mouth. "Dream is not here."

Tommy froze, wheezing in his spot and breathing harshly. Thick tears were rolling down his cheeks, which burned against the scrapes and cuts. Philza sighed with relief, eyebrows raised on how Techno was able to just. . . stop it. Just like that.

There was an uncomfortable silence (besides Tommy's muffled cries) for a few seconds before Philza sofly went, "Give it ten more minutes. I promise, it'll feel like heaven. Healing potions burn at first, but after a while it'll be fine."

Tommy gulped another mouthful of air and it tasted like metal.

"You mean-" He blinks slowly, his voice cracking. "I h'v to deal with ths' shit-" Another inhale, and he chuckled. "This frr' _ten minutes-_ Okay. I c'n deal. Big men don't feel pain."

"Now _that's_ the Tommy I know." Philza played along, not mentioning about how he was literally crying out and yelling in pain just a few moments ago. Technoblade visibly relaxed against the floor.

Philza knew he was worried. _Hell,_ Phil was fucking panicking right now, not that it was showing besides the quivering of his wings.

"Tell us when it starts too feel better, and we can bring you to one of the beds." Philza replied, waving his bloody finger. He had the urge to wipe it on his pajamas.

Tommy gave a weak nod, his eyes fluttering for a call of sleep.

Phil pursed his lips, bringing up the DCD and typing quickly against the thin screen that popped up in front of him.

**DigitalChattingDevice**

_Private Chatting:_ Technoblade

Ph1LzA: How did you do that?

Technoblade's communicator beeped, and Philza flinched before looking at Tommy.

He didn't seem to open his eyes. He sighed in relief, and then his communicator beeped as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Technoblade send the message. Technoblade gave him a knowing side-eye. Phil wasn't so sure he wanted to check the message. He sucked air through his teeth.

**DigitalChattingDevice**

_Private Chatting:_ Ph1LzA

Technoblade: by being there for him


	10. _ Y̷̼̥̓͒ǒ̶̧̖̖u̷̻̟̰͆̓͠

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give him a gift.

When he opens his eyes, the first thing he realizes is that he's dreaming.

It's all white and empty. He stands up. When he waves his hand in front of himself, he feels claustrophobic yet free. There are no boundaries.

He feels like he's wrapped in cozy wings that are soft with each feather, yet too tight around his arms.

It doesn't hurt. He looks at his fingers and they are clear of blood. He feels his face. There's a scar on his cheek. His hair is rid of greese and grime.

He looks down to the white floor, and sees his reflection. His eyes are dull as ever. The color is gone, they are grey.

_"Tommy."  
_

He blinks, and suddenly someone is in front of him.

They are grey. Round glasses are perched on a chipper nose, messy curls hanging from a beanie that was loosely fit on their head. The only thing that was colored were a pair of gentle, milky brown eyes laced in black. A warm smile and a familar sweater was all it took to realize this was Wilbur.

No, it wasn't Ghostbur. This wasn't the Wilbur that went insane. This wasn't the Wilbur that blew up his nation with a shaky smile stretched along his cheeks.

This was _Wilbur._ His brother. The Wilbur that loved him more than the nation that he created.

He immediately attacked him in a hug. He kind if expected him to be a cloud of imagination, or intangable.

That was not the case.

His hands gripped the back of Wilbur's sweater, digging into the knit. He was just tall enough to where he could settle his chin on Wilbur's shoulder and dip his cheek into his neck. He felt like sobbing when he felt steady hands hug back, but for some odd reason, he couldn't speak. He strangely didn't feel bothered by it, either. He was content enough being silent, but at the same time, he wants to talk to his dead brother.

"Tommy." Wilbur says again, more gently. He doesn't want to let go, but Wilbur steps back and steadies him by his shoulders.

"I've come to give you a gift."

A gift?

"Yes," Wilbur replies, and he guesses that Wilbur knows his thoughts. "A gift."

What is it?

Wilbur smiles again, and all he wants to do is hug him once more.

"What is the gift?" Wilbur questions, relaxing his shoulders and looking to the side.

"Thats for me to know, and for you to find out."

He puffs out his cheeks in angers. A hearty chuckle and the ruffle of his hair later, and he can't get mad.

"This gift is for them to decide."

Who's 'them'?

"It's not your time to die, Tommy," Wilbur whispers, ignoring the question with a shaky voice. The side of Wilbur's face glitches.

His vision becomes warped, and he doesn't say anything as Wilbur beings to fade.

_"Wake up,"_ Wilbur's voice fades.

Tommy wakes up with tears in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Give him a gift. That's right, YOU give him a gift in the comments.


	11. ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It burns, really really bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and you shall recieve.

Tommy wakes up, and his back is killing him.

He also remembers the dream vividly, and he'd been given a gift that he didn't know was real.

The only thing he can't remember is _who_ gave him his 'gift'. Tommy's mind was cloudy and grey after thinking about it too much.

Only a few moments passed before he realised he was in a _bed._

He shot up from his laying position, feeling groggy and limp. The pleasant sensation of a healing potion were scattered across his skin, gauze and medical tape dotted over him. He felt one across his cheek and tons on his torso, legs and arms.

He was fit into a white and red shirt that was crafted anew. The short amount of peace faded, and a wave of soreness and exhaustion hit him like a wave. Tommy gasped when a shock of pain went through his arm and a few areas on his torso and legs.

His tongue was dry and his mouth was parched.

He went limp, collapsing back on the bed. His back felt tense and stiff, and his shoulderblades were laced in pain and he didn't know why. He saw a bowl of mushroom soup sitting on a table beside the bed. Well, now he didn't feel like getting back up to drink it, nor could he stomach it anyways.

He could hear quiet murmurs downstairs when he closed his eyes. Was his hearing better or was it just him?

_"Wilbur,"_ he called, his voice so unbelievably hoarse that it sounded like a frog's croak.

He also had no idea why he just called _Wilbur's_ name, out of all names. Wilbur was dead. Ghostbur could possibly be somewhere near.

"Techno," Tommy called a little louder, remembering he was at Technoblade's house.

His ears ring with the creak of a ladder and stomping footsteps. His heartbeat skyrockets.

He sees something out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn't care to crane his neck.

He blinks, and Philza, who looks to be in a complete mode of panic but relief, covers his view of the ceiling. This time, he has his bucket hat on, green and white, and the heart necklace that he keeps around his neck dangles down and bounces against Tommy's chest.

Philza's shocked expression dims, and gives him a smooth smile that reminds him of a certain someone. He wishes that it'd stay like that forever.

"Welcome home," Philza replies to his calling and taps his chest. Tommy recoils in pain and Philza mutters an apology.

He leans back, settling his hands on Tommy's back and slowly lifting him into a sitting position. Tommy leans against the backboard of the bed and pants with exhaustion. He winces as his back cramps up.

"You need to eat, Tommy. Try and down some soup for me?" He questions, wings quivering as he holds up a small bowl which he took from the table.

Tommy gulped.

"I don't know if I can," he responds quietly, and he can still hear people talking downstairs.

Philza smiles again, and holds up the bowl. The freshly roasted mushrooms bobbing atop the soup taunts him, and he can feel his stomach roll in retaliation.

"I'll be happy if you drink just a _little,_ " Philza replies, and his shoulders relax. The soup swirls as his hands lower. "Your stomach is going to start eating your spine if you don't get something in ya'."

Tommy purses his dry lips, giving him an untrusting look. Philza's wings droop.

"Look," He looks away, and his eyes look sad. "I know I haven't been the best father to you, and I take the blame whole-heartedly. We don't do governments. All they do is corrupt- I thought it had corrupted you too," Philza sighs, and his smile becomes wary. "I want to make it up to you. For everything I _didn't_ do."

"What about what you _did_ do?" Tommy raises his voice, and it hurts. His voice cracks.

"It's what he wanted."

Tommy knows what he's talking about. Philza looks back up at him.

"He wanted to be free, songbird," The nickname slips out, but Philza doesn't take the time to correct himself. "Free from the nation that destroyed him."

A loud silence struck the room, and Philza shuffled his feet. His left wing was ruined from the explosion that cursed him.

Tommy slowly raised his arms and gestured towards himself.

"Gimme' the fuckin' soup, Phil." Tommy grumbles, looking away.

Philza smiles, stepping forward and setting the small wooden bowl in Tommy's hands. It drooped before Tommy caught it.

"I'll go tell Techno that you're up, I'm sure he'll be relieved," Tommy looked up and he was already sprinting away, his green-black cloak sweeping across the floor.

Tommy never understood why people like Technoblade or Philza wore such hand-sewed clothes. They'd just get torn anyways.

Looking down at the soup and blinking at his reflection, he picked the spoon from the bowl and stirred the soup like a hurricane. It made his stomach feel like a hurricane, too.

He didn't bother with the mushrooms yet, scooping the soup with the spoon. The bowl was cold as he stuck the spoon between his teeth and pulled it out clean with the pop of his lips.

In all honesty, it was _probably_ just a normal cold soup at best, but this is TommyInnit we're talking about. The one-and-only who'd-been-exiled-into-a-tent-for-weeks-and-left-in-the-snow-to-die TommyInnit.

And it tasted like a fucking _miracle._

He'd quickly downed a few spoonfuls, and even a whole mushroom before he realised he felt like he'd just eaten a whole feast with a pig head on a stick and everything.

He groans, knowing that's not going to end well later. Tommy gives the bowl a look in distain.

He goes to set the bowl on his lap, not even half of it gone, and the spoon topples from his fingers and clinks to the bottom of the bowl.

His heart stops.

Suddenly he can't breathe, and he clutches his heart through the fabric of his shirt. The soup spills across the blanket. He doesn't notice.

White, blinding pain flashes against his skin, coming in bursts. Tears begin to flow freely from his eyes and he can't stop it.

Tommy inhales, and he suddenly felt like he'd been stabbed in his back repeatedly with poison daggers.

It _burns,_ it _hurts._ It hurts so bad, and something rips out from the back of his shoulderblades, and _that's_ when the pain is too much and he has to let out an ear-breaking scream.

His throat is begging for him to stop, and he can't. The burning is unbearable, and he screams and screams at the top of his lungs. It doesn't stop. He's _melting. He feels like he's melting._

He doesn't care when someone is stomping up the ladder. Everything is loud, everything he touches burns him. He screams so much that he begins to drool and his jaw looks like it's about to snap.

Tommy feels something new, and it hurts. Red pools the bed before his vision goes black and he's gone.

~~

finally finished it

(yes I know I forgot the bandages)


	12. wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy sees the wings, and someone is there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter!
> 
> There he goes for another few days lol

When Tommy opens his eyes again, all he sees are flames.

They whip against his back in anger, and he can feel something else, but he can't figure out what.

Strangely, it doesn't hurt.

When he breathes, the fire warps and lowers and suddenly hes sitting under a blanket, clutching his chest. Tears are rolling down the bridge of his nose, and the scent of mushrooms hits him at full force. His right hand is cold and wet.

A bowl is flipped on his blanket, and the white is stained with a murky brown. It feels so cold and overwhelming.

Tommy's ears pop, and he can hear panicked voices. They're jumbled together, and he feels a drop of thick liquid plop onto his temple.

Tommy unclenches his hand from his shirt. It's shaking when he lifts his finger to wipe his temple and then brings it back down to see blood.

His back suddenly feels heavy.

"What's happening to me?" He questions to no one in particular. The scrambled voices respond but he can't hear.

It's not long before more drops of blood begin to scatter against his back. He shifts, and suddenly, nothing hurts.

Not until he moves, atleast. He tries to sit up but something is keeping him from doing so; something that wasn't there before.

Tommy cranes his neck, and gapes in awe.

Large, goldenrod wings, fading to a flame were sprawled above him. Crimson blood was lined against the shimmering feathers. They were wings, and they were on _his_ back.

Blood was seeping through his shirt, and the wings had ripped from his back and through it. It was a tree full of water after a rain; blood was dripping from each quill onto his back.

Tommy felt a hand on his shoulder, but the plumage of flames were too distracting.

He tried to flex them and was immediately left with a blinding pain in his back. He almost choked.

"-ommy!" Someone was shaking his side. The hurricane in his ears was fading. "Tommy, can you hear me?"

"Your _back. . ._ God, there's so much-"

Everything was turning red.

"Tommy-"

Hands gently cupped his cheeks. It felt cold, and they were long and slender.

Those hands twisted his face to the side. A vibrant emerald green and a deep crimson red pierced his vision. Ranboo's pupils were shaking, like he didn't want to look at him.

_"Ranboo."_ Tommy whispers, light as a feather, and Ranboo smiles. It's wobbly.

"Calm down, Tommy! Everything's going to be alright."

Ranboo's voice felt way too chipper, but maybe that was his way of lightening the mood.

The wings on his back shiver. He heard a crack as they stretched out. It burned, and Tommy's eyes became blurry with stinging tears.

_"It's healing him,"_ A low voice says somewhere far away. _"What the hell?"_

Tommy's wings lower. It _is_ healing him. It burns, it cracks, and he hears sizzling, but it doesn't _hurt._ The feathers droop, and begin to tuck into his back calmly.

The dual-colored hands let go of his cheeks, and Tommy's almost to the point where he wants them back, just for a second. He pushes the feeling away.

"Ranboo," Tommy quips tiredly, not wanting to move. He can feel the soup begin to seep through the last layer of the blanket, leaving his legs to turn cold. "Why the fuck are you here?"

Ranboo hesitates.

"I don't want to pick sides anymore, so I came here because it's gone- Oh, uh. Hah, um. I- I mean!" Ranboo waves a finger at him. "I just, uh. Wanted to get away from everything."

"Don't tell Tubbo," Tommy pleads, eyes blinking slowly as his heartbeat began to slow with exhaustion. "Don't tell him I'm here."

"I wasn't planning on it. Actually, we told him you were-"

A cough interrupts him, and it sounds like Technoblade, but Tommy's eyes are already closed. He didn't care to look.

Ranboo goes silent.

It's silent for so long that he thinks they'd left.

Tommy's head bobbles, needing sleep. The wings thump against the backboard.

"There he goes for another week," is the last thing he hears before his drops dead into slumber.


	13. awaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who wants breakfast?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter again! I want to get to 13k wordcount without doing one whole 1,500, and instead do one 500 and one 1,000.

"-e worse the wounds, the longer he sleeps."

Tommy blinked groggily. Well, he tried to, atleast. It seems he was now lying on his stomach, which was incredibly sore.

"Mhm. It seems to do minimum work, though. Those bruises and scars are still there, and the cut through his arm hasn't healed all the way."

"Yeah, but ya' gotta understand. It takes a teir-two health potion to _maybe_ heal something that fast. You'd need multiple, and they take ages to brew."

"I know, I know. It's not like I want him to be perfect, not at all. The healing is amazing, but I'm just listing the cons so we know what his limits are."

Tommy groaned, stretching his aching limbs. A string of pain coursed through his arm, but the stretch was so satisfying that it made up for it.

What he didn't know is that his wings would stretch too. It felt _really_ nice though.

The crash of a stool and laughing filled his ears, and he turned his head from the pillow.

Philza was on the floor in a strange position; which indicated that he fell. He was laughing with tears in his eyes, yet a hand on his stomach. Technoblade was giving the turned-over stool an amused look.

"Bahaha- Tommy, that- hah- you stretched your wings too much and landed me flat on my ass! You absolute asshole!" Phil wheezed, still chuckling whole-heartedly.

Tommy chuckled, but it came out as a frog's croak. He tucked his wings back in. They were large, and stretching them filled the whole room. Their wingspan was big enough for Tommy to reach Technoblade's face by the tip of his feathers.

Tommy tucked them back in, noticing he had a new shirt with slit holes into them. He watched in awe as the feathers shimmered.

"God, this is so fucking cool when you aren't in the middle of death," He croaks, stretching his wings in and out over and over again like a new toy. It was a little sore.

Technoblade's ears flattened. "Nerd."

"Oi!" A wing suddenly slapped against Technoblade's snout which caused Philza to laugh as he stood up.

" _Bruhhh_ , no fair. I feel like a mouse to two hawks right now." Technoblade mumbled, monotone as ever while staring between Philza and Tommy.

"That better be the first feeling you get when you see me, bitch."

Tommy grinned as he sat up, using his good arm for leverage. A hard exhale slipped through his teeth before a streak of sweat ran from his temple.

"Woah there, Tommy." Philza gestured his hands to slow down. "Don't pressure yourself too much."

"Am I in a different bed?"

The child questioned, ignoring Philza's worried tone. The soup was no longer there, and he was facing the opposite direction.

"Yeah, we moved you to my bed, since the soup you got everywhere ruined the blanket." Technoblade joked with a sarcastic tone. "Took Phil ages to get all that wool and sew it together."

The fiery wings flinched, and Tommy bit his lip, looking out the window. "I'm really sorry."

Technoblade and Philza gave eachother a knowing look. That son-of-a-green devil _will_ be killed on sight.

Tommy heard a chirp.

"It's okay Tommy, we're not mad about it, I swear!" Philza reassured him. "Ranboo took it anyways, he was glad to have it."

Tommy hummed, his shoulders still sagging from guilt.

"Sooo. . . uhh." Technoblade quipped in the awkward silence. "Who wants breakfast?"


	14. INTERMISSION PART I; cookies / READ CHAPTER SUMMARY

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part one of my first intermission chapter! These chapters are primarily to give you a break from pain and angst and sadness. These will be canon to the family, but not really to this story particularly. These events would have happened in the FUTURE or PAST, and not where the story takes place in time currently. I'll send these as breaks every now and then!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for 10000 hits??? Literally wtf????? if anyone draws fanart of any of this im going to freak out

"Tommy, I swear to god, stop eating all the chocolate chips."

Tommy looked up like he'd been caught like a deer to a headlight; currently holding one piece up to his mouth, which was wide open for flies to join right in. He quickly slapped the bag back onto the table and fiddled with his hands.

"I wasn't eating _shit,_ " he responded, to which Technoblade huffed.

"Technoooo," Philza called, lifting up a paper of poorly written ingredients. _Hah._ He was wearing a sewed apron that previously said 'Kiss The Pig' before Technoblade ultimately refused to even touch it. 'Pig' was scribbled out with a messy red marker and was replaced with 'Philza', in the same messy red marker.

Philza wore it loud and proud, atleast. "I need you to go down to the cellar and get these ingredients." The paper was warped with wet droplets after he washed his hands and got some on it. "If you don't have some of them, I can message Ranboo and ask for some."

Technoblade licked his tusks, taking he paper to his hands. It looked pathetic in his larger-than-average hands. Tommy watched as Technoblade's pupils skimmed over each word.

The boar in turn nodded, sticking the paper in his mouth to climb down the ladder to the cellar. Both Tommy's and Philza's wings fluffed up before Philza made a noise akin to a laugh mixed with confusion.

"Did he just put that in his mouth." Tommy questioned, but it sounded more like a statement.

"Yuck." Philza answered while getting bowls from the cubbards.

Tommy's feathers twitched in disgust.

No matter how long he'd have these wings, he'd always look at them in awe. They were dull, but Philza said they'd do good with some preening (whatever the fuck that was) and cleaning. Philza said they'd look good in the sun, but he's only ever been out during the night. He hadn't flied with them yet, either.

"Looks like big ol' Techno's havin' some trouble down there," Philza commentates when he hears a crash under the wooden boards.

"Talk about it," Tommy scoffed. "What an idiot!"

Philza's voice echoed through the cubbards as he grabbed a large, flat pan from a shelf inside, having to reach far into it. "Oi. How about _you_ go help him down there, huh?"

"Ohh, cmon' Phil." Tommy said, whining when he didn't respond. " _Phillllll._ "

"Don't lift with your bad arm, though! You still need time to heal." Philza said with a chipper tone.

Tommy waved his hands dramatically. " _Don't lift with your bad arm, mehmehmehmehmehmeh!_ " His voice was high as he repeated him.

Philza chuckled when he heard Tommy's immitation of him, waving his hand down to the ladder.

Tommy jumped down the step, using only his right arm to heft himself down the ladder. The space was too small for his wings to fit, and they snagged against the top of the wooden boards.

"Ffff-for _fucks sake,_ man. Phil, how so you go down the ladder with those giant ass wings?"

"Just tuck them in to your back, Tommy. When wings grow, small slits in your back can hide them from view. Just don't leave em' in too long, or they'll cramp up."

His wings twitched, and he pulled them back into the open part of his shirt. They tucked in neatly into his back, digging under the shirt and hiding them completely from view. Tommy shivered as the feathers tickled along the inside of his back. It was a strange feeling.

"Woah," Tommy whispered to the wind as he craned his neck to look behind him. They really _were_ away from anyone's view; as long as he had a shirt on of course. "That's so fucking cool."

"Yep," Philza replied, and he could see the top of his bucket hat peek over the counter. "You'll want to keep that in mind, Tommy. People know I have wings, but we can't say the same for you." A pregnant pause filled the room. "Wings are a gift and a curse. You'll want to hide them around people you don't trust; those feathers of yours would go for a good price. Keep them in the low, alright?"

Philza finished off softly, not wanted to scare him but to keep him aware.

"I gotcha." Tommy spat, climbing down the ladder with his newly-found skill. Philza heard a quiet " _No one plucks TommyInnit's feathers without getting kicked in the ass by Philza Minecraft!"_ and he barks out a laugh while spraying the pan with cooking spray.

When Tommy jumped from half of the ladder, Technoblade was in the very back of the cellar, with many ingredients packed into his arms. It was really, _really_ cold in here, enough where Tommy had to unfurl his wings and cup the feathers around his body.

"Jesus," Tommy's feathers shivered against his elbows. "It's fucking freezing down here." Was it just him, or did he suddenly feel warmer?

"Yyyup. This is where we keep all of our cooking stuff." Technoblade grabbed one more stick of fresh butter from a box labelled 'DAIRY' in extremely neat handwriting. How unusual. "One of the advantages of living in a tundra in the middle of nowhere. Here Tommy, I need you to either get the sugar or the flour."

Technoblade was balancing multiple things between his arms; a few eggs, a bag of cornstarch, baking soda, and more. The sheet of listed ingredients was forgotten on the side of a shelf. Tommy thought it was a little bit funny, with Technoblade, being the big man he was, struggling to hold a bundle of ingredients.

"Lemme get the flour. Gimme that shit."

Tommy had to reach from the tip of his toes to grab it with his good arm; Stretching his injured one hurt like a bitch. He grazed the top of the flour bag with his fingertips. It wobbled against the shelf, and his wings raised defensively.

He could hear Technoblade's snort behind him as the bag went still. The feathers fluffed up in triumph and he grinned, using one last push against his toes to reach the bag and pull.

_Fuck_.

A signature screech left his mouth combined with a new chirp, and the flour turned upside down and proceeded to cake him in bouts of white dust.

The boar beside him exploded with a high-pitched laugh that kept taunting him, his shoulders haunching up and down with a breathless and ongoing chortle. Tommy coughed, and a cloud of white sprung from his dry tongue.

"I knew that was coming, but it was way funnier than I thought it'd be!" He licked his tusks in amusement, watching as Tommy shook his feathers. The flour made him cough when the feathers sprayed snow in the air.

"You big, stupid, dumbass pussy son of a _bitch._ " The child growled, immediately flaring up in anger. "Why didn't you warn me, you ugly pink bastard!" He shook his head, and flour poured onto his shirt. He raised his arm, stomping in place. "That was not funny! You piece of shit!"

Technoblade laughed, but he wasn't done.

He leaned down to pick up what was left of the flour. Not much, but it will do.

He swung the bag towards Technoblade while he was distracted. It flew through the frigid air and fell onto Technoblade's face and snout like a snowball. Tommy screeched in victory as he saw the flour plastered against his red silk cloak.

Technoblade was speechless, giving Tommy an unknown look. His pupils were shrunken in confusion.

Without warning, Technoblade's nose twitched, and he tilted his head up. Tommy blinked in fear.

"HhhH-chEw-!"

Tommy screamed again when Technoblade sneezed loudly, shaking his head and leaving more flour to float to the floor. Tommy's hands felt wet.

"Ewww, what the fuck!" A wipe of his hands against his thin pants "That's disgusting! You just got your sneeze residue all over me!"

"It's not my fault you blasted me with a face full of flour, you idiot baby." Technoblade replied in a snarky tone that just made him more angry.

"Well, there goes-"

A knock on the wooden boards interrupted him, and they both craned their heads up to the first floor.

A muffled " _What is taking you guys so long?"_ was heard through the cracks. " _I can hear you guys screaming down there!"_

Tommy replied with a loud "We're coming up!"

"Tommy, that was literally all of our flour," he states, following Tommy to the ladder. "Phil's gonna be so sad. No more cookies."

"We can make no-flour cookies, bitch." His wings folded into his back, and Technoblade watched as the wings delved underneath the shirt. It fascinated him. "And they'll be the best fucking cookies you've ever tasted, at the hands of TommyInnit!"

Tommy jumped up the ladder quickly, hefting himself up with one arm with slight use of his right. He jumped onto the wooden planks and stood proudly. Philza turned and squinted at him.

"We have no more flour!" The child exclaimed, wings twitching and stretching back out. "It's cookie time."

"My _god,_ Tommy, what did you do!?" A shocked tone was tinted in Philza's voice as he stared at him, covered in flour. "Did you drop the flour?"

"Yep!" Technoblade had began to climb the ladder as he spoke. "The flour got scared of big ol' me and it jumped me."

"You don't even have a little- _oh my god!- Ppft-_ "

"Stop laughing," Technoblade muttered, floppy ears flattening and shoulders sagging as he stepped up onto the boards. He was strugging with the many items in his hand.

"You're covering in fucking flour, the both of you! Fuckin'ell!" Philza laughed wholeheartedly, holding a whisk in his hand. "God, that's so funny."

"If we had any flour left, I'd throw it at you right now, you brittle-boned prick."


	15. birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philza gives some information to Tommy about wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Report cards are coming soon and I have lots of work.

Tommy woke up again to the drooling smell of sizzling eggs and buttered toast.

Blinking wearily, a flash of green and white out of the corner of his vision made him blanch. He gasped, scrambling his thin fingers to the blanket before his wings stopped him from backing up into the wall as much as he could.

_Dream?_

He lifted his arms in defense, cowering like a newborn cat and his left arm stinging in protest.

"Tommy?" A tired voice was thrown in his direction, and he had enough conscious to know that this was _not_ Dream.

"Sorry, I'll-" Philza paused. His voice was light, and it sounded like he'd just woken up. "I'll take the hat off."

Tommy didn't know he'd stopped breathing. He lowered his arms, and his shaking pupils creeping over his bandages to see Philza, who was pushing his bucket hat into the drawer beside him. Each knob was a shiny gold, and he wanted to take it.

"Sorry, I'm-," his voice wobbled as he gulped. "Sorry, um. I'm sorry for waking you up."

"It's fine, Tommy." Philza pushed the drawer back into the desk slowly, not wanting to move too quickly as to scare him. "I was supposed to stay awake, so you did good, to be honest."

Tommy's wings shifted, curling around his torso protectively.

"Techno's making breakfast downstairs, you fell asleep when he went down." He raised his finger, gesturing wildly as he spoke. "Your body is trying to catch up with your injuries."

Tommy hummed, still trying to calm himself down under his wings.

"So, uh." Philza said, and his voice was dripping anxiety. "I know this is a little taboo, but Techno- he. . . Tommy, what happened in your exile-"

"I don't wanna talk about this."

"-. . Okay."

Silence.

Tommy's wings went limp against the blanket, and his eyes were wet when he forced himself to stare blanky at the wall. His feathers were dull and unkept despite recently growing out.

"Can we talk about something else?" Tommy finally whispered against the stiff coldness in the room. "I want to talk, but not about. . ."

"Okay, okay," Philza replied, curling his wings out against the room and setting himself on the stool he'd sat on before. "Let's talk about wings, hmm? I'm sure you're curious."

Tommy sat up, his feathers suddenly fluffing out and his pupils dilating in excitement.

"Woah, that's new." Philza stated. "I'm guessing thats a yes?"

Tommy nodded his head.

"Okay, first thing to know," Philza stated, plucking one of his feathers from the top of his wing. "What you call us is a hybrid. For example, Ranboo is an enderman hybrid, and Sam is a creeper hybrid. We are actually hybrids of old types of bird species, therefor we're much rarer than your typical mob hybrid." He waved his feather through the air. "You could fly with enough practice! Sadly, my left wing was singed in the- um. An explosion. I can do so much as glide."

Philza smiled as Tommy looked at him, opening his mouth to speak before he flapped his good wing. "I'm not done, let me answer your questions after I explain."

The child blinked, and he clamped his lips shut.

"I sprouted a pair of Raven wings. I'm not sure what yours is yet. Each bird hybrid has their own unique traits. My feathers brew to make night vision potions, and my wings are very lightweight, which used to let my fly very fast."

Philza gestured the feather to Tommy's wings. "We'll find out what yours do, soon atleast. I know it heals you to a small degree, but that doesn't narrow it down much. Also, wings usually start growing out at the age of 8, but yours are very late, which is why they're already so big. Must've hurt a lot-"

A knock on the wall interrupted both Philza and Tommy, and Philza retracted his wings back to their usual size.

"Oh, breakfast is ready. Do you wanna come down with us or would you like be to bring it to you?"

"I'm not a pussy, Phil." Tommy stated, trying to bring some confidence back in him, or some 'pep in his step'. "I can come down." He gripped the blanket, ripping it off his legs which were clad in light pants.

He grinned, throwing himself off the bed and not expecting his legs to wobble and bend against his will. Tommy gasped when his knees gave out under him, and Phil shot out a wing to catch him by his side.

"That's what I thought," a chirp garbled from his throat, and he brung his wing to his side, setting an arm around Tommy's shoulders to steady him. "I'll help you down."

Tommy's nose twitched, and he grumbled. "You're lucky you are Philza Minecraft or I would have beat the shit out of you."

Tommy's legs wobbled. He felt weak and he didn't like it.

"Ok, Tommy, you'll have to get on my back if you want to get down the ladder-"

"Oh hell-to-the-fuck no. I am _not_ crawling on top of your back. Fuck that! No!" Tommy screeched as Philza held his shoulder to keep him from falling. "I'd rather you throw me down to the first floor."

"Ok." Philza replied, picking him up. He was way too light and he could feel his ribs through his shirt, but the wings made him heavier. Tommy tried to scramble out of his arms when Philza lifted him up and began to walk towards the ladder.

"Wait, wait, wait! What the fuck! You bitch! You absolute idiot! I was joking, I was joking! Wait, put me down you fucking stupid old man!" Tommy screamed, and Philza laughed.

"I wasn't _actually_ going to throw you down the ladder," Philza set him down to his feet, and Tommy's wings lashed in anger. "Now either get on my back, or I can bring the food to you."

Tommy scoffed, shuffling his unstable feet. His eyes drifted to the left as he held out his arms. He pursed his lips.

Philza grinned as he crouched to heft Tommy onto his back. He tilted his wings away and he felt arms wrap around his neck; one of which was lopsided. The bandages were cold.

"C'mon," Philza whispered, walking towards the ladder has he felt a chin relax onto his shoulder. "Let's get some food in' ya."


	16. breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy eats some breakfast, even if Techno's not very good at cooking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DID YOU GUYS SEE TOMMYS STREAM IM SO FUCKING SAD

Philza, after minutes of complications down the steep ladder, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the plates were already set up. Technoblade was sitting at the end of the table, his royal silk sitting generously on the dark oak chair. He was mid-bite, digging into a pile of scramble. Each egg was fresh, taken right from the chicken and seasoned with too much spice.

One of the only decent things he could cook. Philza had to take the pan one day to stop the boar from burning down the house. Technoblade was used to eating raw food or food that doesn't need to be cooked, so Philza had to teach him _something_.

So he did, and Technoblade can cook. A little.

"Ok, Tommy. You're gonna have to get off my back." His wings flickered, and the arms slipped from his grip before hands dug into his shirt.

"Sorry, almost fell over. . ." Tommy mumbled. "Fuckin' old man."

"Oi!" Phil walked, and he heard Tommy grasp his shirt as he began to walk to the table. "I am not an _old man,_ you child."

"No, no. I am a very big man but I am not _old."_ Tommy stated, throwing himself on a chair before he melted to the floor. A sigh left his lips as he finally got to sit down. He tucked his wings in and over the sides of the chair.

His eyelids fluttered, and looking at the plate of eggs, some toasted bread, and fresh berries made him feel sick. His stomach rumbled in protest, and he felt a weird tingling in the bottom row of his teeth.

It taunted him.

He looked up, gulping in the silence of scraping forks against porcelain.

"You not hungry?" Technoblade questioned. He waved his fork around. "I know it's hard, Tommy, but you gotta get something in ya'. You don't know it, but you're starved."

Both Phil and Techno gave him a pleading look, and Tommy couldn't take it. He gulped again.

"Okay, okay, stop fuckin' watching me." He announced, stabbing a berry with the fork he was given. It looked fresh and picked right from the bush: The only time he'd every eaten berries was back when he had a tent and some sticks. They were always either not ripe, rotten, or soggy; left along the ground of snowy nights from fox raids. He'd stole a few from Technoblades chest, but they were unused in recipes, so they became old and stale.

The other two at the table began to talk again, but he wasn't listening.

His pupils dilated when he stuck the berry along his tongue and exploded with a sweet flavour. Scooping it off the puncture of the fork with a pop, he swallowed it quickly. It was great, honestly, but now he'd felt full already, and he couldn't help feel bad if he wasted their food.

For some reason, his teeth began to hurt worse.

Eating the bread was probably the easiest. It was toasted and light on his stomach (as much as it could be, atleast) but he couldn't finish half of it. Two forkfuls of eggs later, and he couldn't stomach any more or he'd puke. His bottom row of teeth were still throbbing for whatever reason.

"Sorry," He whispered painfully as he pushed the plate away, not realising that the other two had just gone back to watching him. "I really can't eat any more."

"Not even a berry more?" Philza said concerningly, and Tommy wrapped his arms around his stomach and his adam's apple bobbed as he held back bile.

He shook his head lightly. "Mmh-mmh." He winced when he rolled with nausea. "I can't eat any more or I'm going to fucking explode like a goddamn creeper."

"Tell me if you're feelin' bad, and I'll get ya a bucket, aight?" Philza requested, and he stuck a spoonful of a bundle of berries down the hatch. Envy stabbed his gut, but he nodded anyways.

"I don't know if you we're listening, but we we're just talking about Ranboo."

"Ranboo is strange," Tommy quips as he lays back in his chair. "He's nice though, he visited me sometimes. He forgets a lot of stuff though. What an idiot."

A snort from both Technoblade and Philza made Tommy feel heavy.

"He's a nice fellow," Technoblade spoke quietly, ripping a piece of bread from his plate. "But I still don't fully trust him. You're right when you say he's strange."

"I'm sure he'll do something to make him trust you." Philza responded, scraping the last bit of eggs off of his plate, and he didn't seem to care about the overly-seasoned taste. "He was the only one remotely nice to me during house arrest, though a little hesitant. He had to come in sometimes to not burn under the rain. I freaked out when I saw the top of his shoulders sizzling after he bust through my door during a downpour, it was terrible."

A knock on the door interrupted their chatting, and Philza smiled, already getting up.

"Must be Ranboo. What a coincedence!"

Tommy's feathers twitched. What would Ranboo think of him? Seeing him at his weakest point.

Philza hopped out of view into the hallway, and Technoblade raised an eyebrow at him. "You aren't lookin' too hot."

"Well, _yeah._ " Tommy snapped, his nose twitching. "I haven't eaten that much at one time in atleast a week from sleeping. I didn't eat that much even after; You would know-"

_"Dream? What are you doing here?"_

Tommy gasped when he heard Philza speak a few metres away, and he suddenly felt hot. Technoblade raised from his chair; his shoulders were tense and his quickly snapped open a chest and picked an invisibility potion and swiped it.

"Tommy," He whispered calmly, tapping on Tommy's shoulder. "I know you're full, but drink this because I don't give a gold ingot if you puke all over my floor."

_"Techno, where- how do I-"_

Tommy stuttered, looking between the entering of the hallway and back to Technoblade.

He had no more chance to speak before Technoblade shoved the potion in his shaking hands. "Drink it before I force it down your throat myself."


	17. HIATUS NOTICE

Hi everyone!

I'm currently taking a breath from this for about a week or two; Don't worry, I've even set an alarm so I don't forget about it.

I've been writing these chapters constantly, and I've decided to take a break from it because I'm having a burnout writing this with tests coming up and my first semester coming to an end.

Don't worry; If I have any ideas, I'll be making short fics which will give me a break from constantly writing on this one.

(Keep a look out. . . I may or may not be posting a one-shot soon. . .)

If you have any suggestions or fanart, keep them in the comments! If you have any fanart as well, tag me at @phantombiscuitz on Twitter and it'll be featured here!

edit, March 11th: working on the newest chapter now ;)


	18. here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He really just wants to rest.
> 
> tw, cw //
> 
> vomiting in this chapter, also a little bit of panicking at the end! please proceed with caution!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IM BACK FROM HIATUS, BABY!
> 
> God, I need to give Tommy a break. Dont worry, I will next chapter.
> 
> Also, thank you guys so so much for the amazing support! Almost 20k hits?! What the hell!

Tommy downed the invisibily potion, and his stomach cried in pain. He'd have to hold it in, because Dream was at their doorstep, and he shuffled into his safe box while Technoblade snapped the top shut. His wings, even when folded to the inside of his back, cramped against the hard wood.

His invisible hands shook against his knees, and he wanted to cry. He wanted to sob so loudly, especially when his stomach began to sieze, but Tommy gulped and kept it down.

"So,"

Dreams voice paralyzed him.

"Where's Tommy?"

"You didn't know?" Technoblade stated boldly as his hooves clacked against the floor. Tommy could see him tower over Dream through the cracks of the trapdoor. "He died on the way back. Threw himself in the lava while we were in the Nether. I couldn't throw my fire resistant potion in time before I realised he'd jumped."

"And how do I know you're lying?" Dream hissed, holding his axe between his fingers. Tommy held back a flinch. "You wouldn't lie to me, right, Technoblade? You seem a little. . . _apathetic_ about this!"

"I mean," Technoblade shrugged. The food was turning cold. "I've seen many people die in my years, Dream; even more so for Phil. I can even show you his grave. We made one, obviously. He was too young."

Tommy's world began to spin.

Everyone thought he was _dead?_

Even Tubbo?-

No.

_It's not like Tubbo ever cared_ , his mind supplies. _This will keep you safe._

Technoblade said he'd already made a _grave._ This whole thing was _planned_ while he was _asleep_!

"I'm going to ask you to leave this house," Phil reprimanded to Dream, crossing his arms. "We've done our deed, helping you blow up L'manburg."

What?

_What? What did he say?_

Tommy's head began to spiral down.

_Blow up L'manburg. . . ?_

_Not again_

He shook in the box. His wings wanted to come out.

"You've gotta realise, Dream." Technoblade bared his tusks. "I may not have liked him the most, but driving a kid to suicide is messed up. I know what you did back in exile."

"Let me say one more thing," Dream took one step backwards, stomping his foot backwards. He chortled at his thought.

"Tommy, I know you're here." The masked man brought his hands up, and Tommy had to stop himself from whining. "Come out here and put your things in the hole."

"He's dead," Philza set his hand against his hip. "Go ahead and try whatever fucked-up thing you're planning."

Silence filled the room for what felt like many minutes. Dream cracked his knuckles, and Tommy flinched against the back of the box, gripping his shirt with his good arm to try and keep himself calm.

_Don't go out, don't listen. He doesn't control you._

"So he's dead, huh." Dream guessed, knowing Tommy would have beckoned to him like a dog. "What a _shame._ I can't even revive him without his corpse. How _boring-_ "

" _Leave"._

Both Technoblade and Philza spat from their mouths. Tommy's invisibility began to fade from his hands, and he begged, _begged_ for him to leave.

Dream didn't say a word as he clutched his axe, swinging the door open and swiftly jumping down the stairs and taking his leave.

"Tommy, you can-"

"Let me out," Tommy begged, his gut twisting in nausea, and box feeling ever so enclosed. He scrambled against the wood, his legs kicking against the opening. "Let me out, let me out, let me _out, let me out."_

As soon as he felt the clasp of the wooden box click, and immediately crawled out to the floor and promptly vomited on the wooden boards. There goes his breakfast.

Fangs suddenly sprang from his bottom row of teeth, and smaller ones petruding from the top.

His puke was translucent, he realised, as his whole body shook against the floor. That was funny.

A hand ran across his back, and even if it felt nice, even if it felt _safe,_ he couldn't help but flinch violently. He was not in the condition to be touched right now.

His throat burned as he gagged, this time only a thin yellow liquid dribbling from his lips. Bile.

Garbled voices couldn't reach his ringing ears as he started to gag again. It wouldn't stop, no matter how hard he clutched his stomach or how many times he ran is putrid tongue over his newfound fangs.

"-lright, Tommy. It's okay."

He tried to swallow, but a noise akin to disgust and pain was all that left him.

"Tommy," a voice filled the empty ringing. "You don't have anything left in you. You're okay, you're alright."

" _Fu-uk,_ " Tommy spat, trying to calm the constricting of his throat.

"He's gone, Tommy."

He's coming back to his senses, slowly but surely. That calming voice was Philza. He was scared to look up.

He felt himself being lifted from his arms, but he had no energy to retaliate. A towel, or something of the sort, wiped across his lips. He'd forgot about the fangs that sprouted from his teeth. The pain was nowhere near as bad as the burning in his gut.

"I'm so fucking, messed _up,_ " Tommy spits as Philza sets him on a chair. He's not shaking as much anymore, but his stomach is burning and his tone sounds sharp just like his fangs. His vision flickers with blurry black splotches. "I can't eat a goddamn berry and some bread without tossing my cookies. This is stupid."

"Oi, the potion was really thick. You can't blame it on yourself." Philza calms him as Technoblade cleans up the mess (his snout twitches at the smell, but it's not necessarily bad. It's just, strange).

"We know you didn't eat a lot, and that's not your fault. It was _him._ " Technoblade spouts from behind the chair. Tommy knows who he's talking about. "He's dead once I see him."


End file.
